Not Breathing

Today is Writing Group Day. It’s the day when I absolutely must go to a specific place and set aside time to write.

Most weekdays, I’ll write during my lunchbreak. If I have to do errands or run around for some reason (including struggles to find food at the later time-period I tend to go at), the time is reduced. If it starts getting to be too far between writing periods, the world starts to feel like a crushing thing that exists only to beat me into submission.

You would think that it’s the non-working-days where I’d be more able to write, but these invariably get taken up by other responsibilities. There’s no time on those days when I’m really alone, unless I’m driving or in the shower. Neither are great for writing.

I’ve been trying to work on my rewrite, and had been doing so for a while. Focus at the moment isn’t great. Also starting to feel like writing something else, but it’s not a specific, just an underlying tone of needing to write something new so that I’m not just treading over the same ground. I can’t tell if it’s the sketchy pattern of my habit of late that’s doing it, but I’m back in that “re-read and think it’s all crap” stage again. I don’t think it’s that long ago that I thought it was okay or salvageable.

My blogging pattern during June is comparable to my pattern for other forms of writing. My head isn’t in it, but I want it to be, and as a result I hate myself a little more than usual. Maybe I’m not meant to be doing this at all and it’s all just crap said in a confusing way that makes it seem like it’s esoteric when it’s just drivel. I don’t know right now.

But today, it’s Writing Group Day. I don’t know if anyone else will show, but not having an audience is nothing new. I’ve brought all my relevant writing pads and I’ll have the space to look at what I want to do and the time to look over my notes and to make a proper plan for what comes next. Maybe I’ll pinpoint a mindless story (or short story) idea I can rush out in between editing. Maybe I’ll just throw everything out. Guess I’ll find out.

“I write for the same reason I breathe – because if I didn’t, I would die.”― Isaac Asimov

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